


Recovery In Your Arms

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Fire, Gen, Hurt Yuri Plisetsky, Hurt/Comfort, I needed something kinda dark, M/M, Worried Victor Nikiforov, the rink catches on fire, yuri gets trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9526013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: The rink catches on fire during a competition and Yuri gets trapped.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea where this came from, but I hope you enjoy it. :)

A fire was the last thing Yuuri thought they would have to deal with tonight. It was the final qualifier for the Grand Prix, and Yurio was just about to start his short program. Yuuri had gone first, Victor immediately after him. Two performances later, and the blonde was standing by the side of the rink, leaning over the half wall to give a begrudging hug to the older skaters.

Just before the music started, a harsh, loud wailing rang through the stadium. The fire alarm had been tripped. People screamed and began rushing for the exits, a mass surge to get out of the building. Yuuri didn’t see any fire, so he supposed that someone must have pulled the alarm as a joke.

Soon, most people were standing outside, huge groups of people huddling together. Teams of security guards were rushing around, taking stock of injuries and accounting for spectators. A Grand Prix official had all the skaters and their coaches together, talking them through what had happened. Within minutes, Yuuri saw smoke leaving the building, drifting off into the dark sky, obscuring the stars. There was a telltale flicker of flames in windows on the lower floors.

“Coaches, please account for your skaters and inform us if there is anyone missing!” a young man called to the group at large. Immediately, there were coaches holding onto their skaters or calling names in an attempt to take a role call.

“Nikiforov,”

“Here.”

“Katsuki,”

“Here.”

“Babicheva,”

“Present.”

“Popovich,”

“Here.”

“Plisetsky,”

Silence.

“Yura.”

Everyone looked around. They turned their heads this was and that, standing up on their tiptoes to see above the heads around them, looking for that pale blonde hair. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Yakov, he’s not here.”

Panic spread in Yuuri’s chest. What if he was stuck in the building? What if he was trapped by the fire and hurt? What if he couldn’t breathe?!

“Yuuri, he’s fine.” Victor was suddenly right in front of him, his face two inches from the black haired man’s. “We’ll find him and everything will be alright. Trust me, I’m sure he’s just with someone else.”

Only in that second did Yuuri realize he had been starting to hyperventilate. A jittering was beginning in his stomach and his fingers, filling him with the need to simultaneously fall to the ground and panic and run around like a mad man, looking for the smaller, blonde sixteen year old.

“But what if he’s in there?”

*

The ice was still cold beneath him. The room was dark, but flames were spreading through the rows of seats, filling the space with a flickering, raging light. Everything was hot, the air making him sweat and smoke filling the room quickly. The ceiling was high, but the smoke was gradually coming closer and closer to the floor.

Yuri found himself all but paralyzed. What was happening? Everyone had rushed out, he’d heard people yelling and calling out, but he’d stayed. He’d collapsed on the ice, unsure. Was someone coming back? This was a dream, right? Some horrible, awful dream that he’d wake up from soon?

That’s it. Any second now, Otabek or Grandpa or… anyone… would come and shake him awake. They’d get him out of this in 3… 2… 1… 

...Nothing.

This couldn’t be a dream. He was actually stuck on the ice, fire creeping ever closer and smoke stinging his eyes and burning his lungs. Yuri could feel the irritation in his throat and nose. One deep breath had him coughing violently, retching onto the ice. His body wanted the smoke out of it. It wanted it out more than the one time he’d been convinced to try a cigarette and instantly regretted it.

Lifting his head, Yuri scanned his surroundings. The floor around the rink was ablaze, licking over the half wall and melting the ice. There was one door off the ice that was free of fire, and Yuri attempted to get back up, skate over to it. Two strokes forward and he was back on the ice, head spinning from a lack of oxygen. His hands were burning, the ice pulling all the warm from his fingers and chilling his skin. Even in the midst of a fire, Yuri was sure he was going to get frostbite somehow.

In a minute, Yuri’s thoughts were fogging further and further. One last effort to pull himself off the ice went without reward, leaving him coughing and panting , head rested on one arm.

“H-help,” Yuri said, his voice coming out scratchy. He could hardly hear it himself, and he doubted the plea would do him much good at all.

His eyes closed just as a violent banging started up somewhere behind him.

“H… yone… llo! Any… here?!” A different voice was calling out into the room.

Seconds later and Yuri felt himself being lifted from the ice, strong arms cradling him to a mass much warmer than the hard surface he’d been laying on.

The change in temperature shocked him, Yuri’s smoke addled brain telling him the fire must be near.

“N-no!” he tried to push himself away, but to no avail.

“It’s… t so… ge… out of… re.”

The world around Yuri faded to nothing, his mind blank and black.

*

There was a commotion near the doors where the firefighters had gone into the building. The men were coming out, one or two supporting spectators who’d gotten caught by the blaze. One was met by two paramedics, taking a small, lithe body out of his arms. Otabek recognized that body, would know that blonde hair anywhere, no matter how much soot may have been in it.

“Yuuri! Victor!” Otabek called to the couple. “He’s there!”

The three went rushing for the women with Yuri. Yakov saw them from a distance and followed quickly.

“Yuri?!” Victor called. “Is he all right?”

“Sir, he’ll be fine,” one woman assured. She and her partner laid the blonde on a gurney, checking him over and placing a breathing mask over his face.

Otabek couldn’t help but notice just how hard it seemed to be for his friend to draw in a breath.

“Can he breathe?” He demanded. 

“Yes, he can breathe. I’ll have to ask you all to step away though. He needs to get to the hospital,” the other woman replied.

“Ma’am, I’m his coach. May I accompany you there?” Yakov asked calmly, though Victor could see the distress in his eyes.

“Yes.” The two women lifted the gurney into the back of the ambulance. One motioned for Yakov to get in and come with her.

“Right. Victor, you’re in charge. Keep the rest of them calm and together.” With that, the man climbed in and the doors to the ambulance were shut tight.

Yuuri, Victor, and Otabek stepped away from the vehicle and turned back to the mass of people. All the skaters were standing around, staring after the red ambulance that had taken away their friend and his coach.

Phichit came running up to them, stopping short in front of Yuuri. “He’ll be alright, won’t he, Yuuri?”

“Um…” Yuuri hummed, his voice shaky. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t know how Yuri had been left behind or what kind of shape he was in. He hadn’t seen any burns on the younger skater, but he hadn’t really gotten a good look either. “I don’t know…”

The next second, the Thai skater was throwing his arms around Yuuri’s neck and holding onto his friend with everything he had. If it was for his comfort or Yuuri’s, the Japanese skater couldn’t tell.

*

Hours later, everyone had been cleared to leave, the spectators going back to their homes or hotels, the skaters dismissed to their own hotel. The group of men and women sat together silently in the lobby of the building. Very few of them had opted to go up to their rooms. Those who had were surely talking to friends or family, telling them that they were just fine.

Otabek sat on a couch, one elbow resting on the arm of the couch, his chin in his hand. His eyes flickered from the floor to the doors to his phone every few seconds. He knew it was ridiculous to think Yuri was going to text him. After all, Yuri’s bag had been in the locker room and Otabek was fairly certain he’d heard someone say that the fire had started in one of those. Mostly likely, almost all the skaters had lost their duffle bags of clothes and personal items to the fire. Otabek couldn’t say that didn’t bother him a little. After all, his wallet had been in there.

But most importantly, Otabek was really just hoping to see something from Yakov that Yuri was okay. Maybe that he was awake, or at least unharmed.

They waited there for what felt like hours before anyone got any news.

In the silence of the lobby, Victor’s ringtone made everyone jump, even the young man watching the counter. The silver haired man scrambled to answer his phone, eventually shoving the cell up to the side of his face and answering in hurried Russian.

A look of pure relief washed over his face. No one said anything, but there was a collective sigh at how Victor relaxed slightly. The man finished his conversation quickly, hanging up and shoving the phone back in his pocket.

“Okay, there’s good news and great news,” Victor said to the group. “Good news, the fire didn’t start in the locker rooms like they’d originally thought so most of our stuff actually made it.”

“That’s amazing, Victor,” Yuuri said impatiently. He looked like he was going to rip Victor a new one if the man didn’t get on with it. “What about Yuri?”

“Right. The great news is that Yuri is perfectly fine and had only collapsed from excessive smoke inhalation. They want to watch him for a few more hours, but after that, he’ll be free to go.”

“Oh, thank God…”

“Good.”

“Fantastic.”

Many other admissions of relief and joy sounded through the room. Within minutes, most of the other skaters had agreed and decided to go up to their rooms. Victor, Yuuri, and Otabek had chosen to remain behind. They would be there to meet Yuri when he got back, and they were going to hug him and cuddle him and just generally adore him until he pushed them all off and stormed up to his room.

It was only about three hours later that the doors to the hotel were opening and Yakov was coming in with Yuri all but under his arm. The man had one large hand planted firmly on the blonde’s shoulder, steering him into the building gently.

Yuri kept his eyes down. He was wrapped up in a thin blanket, which Otabek could see did little to keep him warm. The blonde was shivering violently, keeping close to Yakov’s side.

“Yuri!” Yuuri called, standing quickly and rushing towards the younger skater. The sudden movement had Yuri flinching, but he still allowed himself to be swept into a tight embrace. After a stunned second, the green eyed teen was melting into the hug, wrapping his arms just as tightly around the brown eyed man.

Victor and Otabek were joining them then, also wrapping Yuri in a hug and whispering sweet things to him. He was trembling, silent tears leaking down his face to soak into Yuuri’s shirt, but the older man didn’t seem to care at all.

“Shh…” Yuuri hummed. “It’s alright. We’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

A choked hiccup escaped the teen, Yuri turning his face harder into his friend’s shoulder. He shaking got more violent, and though it was now late and they should all probably be going to bed, they just stood there. Yuri soaked in as much of the love and comfort that he could.

Eventually, the hug ended, the three older skaters taking in Yuri and checking him over for wounds, regardless of what the doctor had said. There was soot smudged here and there on his face, dark grime in his blonde locks of hair, but other than that, he seemed to be fine. Otabek noticed then that he had his own set of tears tracking down his cheeks, as did Victor and Yuuri. He supposed it was alright if they were all crying like babies. They’d almost lost Yuri tonight. If those firefighters hadn’t found him… Otabek didn’t want to think about it.

The four headed back up to their rooms in the elevator with Yakov. On their floor, Yuuri and Victor hugged Yuri in turn and wished him a goodnight and sweet dreams. Yakov too said his goodbyes before heading off to the floor below them where the coaches’ rooms were.

Otabek carefully lifted one arm around Yuri’s shoulders, and the blonde allowed it. He walked closer to the black haired man’s side, allowing him to lead them to their room.

They were silent as they entered, Otabek sliding his keycard through the lock. He let his arm slide from Yuri’s shoulders as he went over to the back corner of the room to rummage through his bag for his sweatpants and a tank top to change into after a shower. Otabek stood back up and turned to find Yuri standing in the middle of the room, staring around at the beds and the floor then the walls and the mirror above the desk.

“Yuri?” Otabek tried to draw the blonde’s attention. Yuri didn’t look at him at all. “Yura?”

Otabek took two steps before he was directly in front of Yuri. He dropped the clothes to the floor, bringing his hands up to Yuri’s face and forcing him to look at him.

“Yura, talk to me.”

The blonde’s light features contorted into a pinched, weeping mess. His arms were around Otabek’s broad chest in an instant, holding on like his life depended on it. Yuri all but sobbed, choked, hysteric cries muffled by the twenty year old’s shoulder.

Otabek held him tightly, letting them stand there for long seconds, bleeding into longer minutes. He held onto him, allowing Yuri to let out everything that he hadn’t been able to before. They stood there longer than Otabek cared to think about before Yuri calmed, hiccupping against the fabric of Otabek’s jacket.

“Yura-”

“I… can’t…” Yuri was pulling away suddenly, his hand flying through the air, up and down, up and down. It took Otabek a moment to realize the blonde was shaking something. A moment later and Yuri was pushing all the air from his lungs and bringing a small red container up to his mouth. He pressed on the top of it and breathed in, holding the air for much longer than he seemed to be comfortable with.

He seemed to count before letting go of the breath, bringing the thing back up to his lips and repeating the process once more.

“Yura, what’s that?” Otabek asked once Yuri had let go of the breath and taken a moment to gasp in a few deep breaths. The pattern of his breathing seemed to change almost instantly, able to take deeper, slower breaths that filled the entirety of his lungs instead of short gasps and pants.

“A… An inhaler. The doctor prescribed me a new one.” Yuri said.

“An inhaler? Like, for asthma?”

Yuri nodded. “When I was younger, I had asthma that was allergen induced. As I got older, it seemed to go away until it came back later, but I would only get an attack when my stress levels were really high. My doctor called it anxiety induced asthma. I left my inhaler back home in Russia…”

Otabek nodded. Yuri didn’t seem to get stressed or anxious during a competition, so he figured that it must have been okay at the time. But freak things happened all the time, and that made Otabek personally a little weary, and more willing to take extra precautions, unlike the blonde Russian.

“Are you okay to talk now?” Otabek asked. Yuri nodded.

“I was just… For a moment I thought…” he started. Otabek, took a seat on the edge of his bed, encouraging Yuri to do the same. Instead of sitting on his own bed, the blonde joined the black haired young man. Not that Otabek was complaining. The closer he could keep Yuri, the better for the moment. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again. I thought that… that maybe I would have died there on the ice.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. One second, everything was fine and I could almost hear the music beginning, and then suddenly everyone was panicking. Before I knew what was happening, the lights were going out and there was smoke everywhere and I couldn’t move. I was terrified. I thought for a moment that it was a dream. That, maybe, someone would be around soon to wake me up.”

He didn’t seem to be falling back into a panic, which Otabek counted as a good thing, but the emotion seemed to have drained from him altogether. That itself was worrying as well.

“Alright. Why don’t you go and get yourself washed in the shower, and then we’ll go to bed.” Otabek suggested. Yuri nodded, and stood. The older skater watched as the younger moved to his luggage and started to dig through it, searching for something. He came back with a long sleeve shirt and a pair of leggings, though his eyebrows drew together and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips.

“My jacket was at the rink…”

“Maybe it survived. Go on and shower. I’ll be here when you get back.” Otabek said, standing and urging the blonde towards the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Otabek was jumping into the quickest shower of his life. He scrubbed himself down from head to toe and then dried off as fast as physically possible. When he came out again, he found Yuri curled under the blankets of his bed, eyes staring off at the wall. Otabek had found one of his own jackets that he let Yuri borrow for the time being, though he was certain that he wouldn’t mind if he never saw that jacket again. Or at least only ever on Yuri. Something about it seemed to ease the sixteen year old.

Quietly, Otabek turned out the light and went to crawl into his own bed for the night.

“Beka…” came a small voice from the dark of Yuri’s vicinity.

“Yeah?”

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
